


The Treasure

by BasslineRaver



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fusion, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7726315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasslineRaver/pseuds/BasslineRaver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The treasure Jamison Fawkes found out in the outback wasn't exactly what everyone else thought it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The rumors were interesting ones. A scrawny little Junker boy had found a treasure and wasn’t telling what it was exactly, but the fact that he talked so highly of it made everyone think it was worth more than anything they had ever seen. Some of the rumors had said it was a weapon, while others were that it was an actual treasure to be sold off that was worth millions. 

Roadhog straddled himself over his bike and leaned back, staring at the Junker-established camp where the kid had last been seen. He stared intently at the ramshackle buildings and then kicked off and drove along, finding the place where the other Junkers had parked their vehicles. Thankfully, there was a bit of an unwritten rule that a Junker would leave another Junker’s vehicle alone, whether it be a busted up car to a motorcycle to an entire big rig truck. Usually it was because the threat of death was high and nobody wanted to risk that. 

Once his bike was safely parked, Roadhog went and shuffled into the nearest bar and sat down at a table, listening for anything interesting. His mask made it easy to look around, not giving anyone the appearance that he was actually looking at them. He looked over at a group of Junkers who were arguing loudly over a game of chance that one of them had so clearly cheated on and it was probably going to escalate into something violent. Another lone Junker was sitting back and smoking a cigar that looked hand-made and was probably a hundred times more potent than any normal cigar could have been. 

“I fuckin’ swear,” another conversation started up and Roadhog listened in. It was hard not to, the large black man was talking loud enough to be heard over the arguments about the game. “That jittery little shit is worse than Greasemonkey. Who let the kid have explosives? About damn near blew up the food stores.”

Another man with spiky black hair and sunglasses removed the sunglasses, used them to point at his friend, and banged his mechanical arm on the table. “Dumb shit. Yelled about nobody getting his treasure and then kicked fuckin Tork in the side with his peg leg. Okay well, that shit was funny,” he laughed. “I didn’t even care about the treasure or whatever. I just wanted to eat…” 

Roadhog tilted his head to the side and then stood and moved over to the group that were talking about his intended target. Two of them turned to look up at him, while the others continued talking over their experience and then ended up talking about how they wanted to tweak their vehicles. 

“Oh I’d recognize that face anywhere,” the black man said and stood up to face Roadhog. “Good seein’ the mighty Roadhog in the flesh. Means the world hasn’t chewed you up yet.” 

“Still truckin,” Roadhog rumbled, smirking behind his mask. “You met the kid?” 

“Yea, he should still be around here somewhere. You’re the only person that’s come into this encampment today and nobody’s left from what I heard. Good luck pinning him down though,” he said. He pointed out a window, towards the southern end of the encampment. “Last saw him down that way, he ran there after the food stores incident.” 

“Thanks,” Roadhog said and nodded. “Good luck.”

“Yea yea,” the man turned and sat down again, joining the conversation about their cars. 

Roadhog turned and headed back outside, turning and following a beaten path through the buildings and started looking. He wasn’t sure if this kid was the one he was searching for, but he wanted a shot at whatever treasure it is that he found. 

The loud screech drew his attention towards a tent.

“You put me down or I’ll fuckin--” 

“What? You’ll what? You’re missin’ half of yourself you can’t do shit you little rat!” 

“Excuse me, the name is Junkrat, not just rat.” 

There was the sound of a punch and a low moan of pain. “Quit your shitmouth and tell me where you hid  your fucking treasure!” 

Roadhog perked up and followed the sound of the argument and fight, and came upon a single lone Junker holding a smaller ratty looking Junker up off the ground. The smaller man had a prosthetic arm and a peg leg, and looked like he had been beaten to hell and back. He was still angrily fighting even though the bigger man had him basically held by the neck. 

Unfortunately for the one Junker, Roadhog wanted the treasure more than he did. 

Roadhog pulled his hook out and threw it, grabbing the man by his leg and yanked him back. In his surprise, he dropped the smaller Junker who limped a few steps before collapsing and breathing heavily as he tried to recover. 

“That isn’t yours,” Roadhog growled into the man’s face. 

“Like you’re gonna stop me?” the other Junker spat right back and pulled out a dangerous looking club with more than enough shrapnel embedded in it to cause terrible damage. He swung it at Roadhog who just narrowly missed it, but it grazed his arm just enough to draw blood. 

Roadhog roared and started brawling with the man.

Junkrat lay on his side, focused on watching the fight. His chest heaved, bruises starting to get their color on his chest and neck and starting to throb. He knew his peg leg would need repairs but the worse feeling was the fact that there was still shrapnel in his leg there from fighting with the one Junker. He wiped some blood away from his mouth and watched as Roadhog brutally beat the man into the ground and then threw him off to the side. The man was still alive but Roadhog had clearly shown his dominance. 

“Mate,” Junkrat sat up, his arms shaking as he did but he tried to keep his confidence up. “Mate you’re  _ strong _ . Look at you, tearin’ through that bloke like he’s tissue paper.” 

Roadhog turned to stare at him. He moved over to loom over Junkrat and then reached down and grabbed him by the front of his vest. He easily lifted him up off the ground and then stared at him. 

“Treasure,” he stated. 

“Oh roight, roight,” Junkrat stammered and patted at Roadhog’s very large hand. “Yea, you want it too huh? You and everyone else. First time I’ve seen someone go after another person that wanted me though… Usually they gang up on me, eh? Crazy.” 

Roadhog just stared intently at Junkrat, then shook him a little. He was clearly not interested in hearing the younger man’s rambling. 

“Hows about… You and I team up? I’d be the brains, you’d be the brawn? And we could split the treasure, fifty-fifty,” Junkrat patted at his hand, trying to be cordial. “It’ll be great, can you just see it? You and me, blowin’ anything up in our way!” Junkrat pointed over towards his frag launcher which had been dropped in his previous brawl when he got overwhelmed.

Roadhog glanced over towards the weapon, then back at Junkrat. “You’re panicking,” he stated.

“Of  _ COURSE  _ I am mate, but panic is a very good motivator,” he said. 

There was a deep huff from Roadhog, before he dropped Junkrat down onto the ground, not caring how he landed. “If you go back on it…” he trailed off, letting his intentions be implied rather than said. 

Junkrat laughed nervously. “Aaahaha… Gods. Yes I get it,” he stared intently at Roadhog. He then turned and spit in his hand and held it out, “Fifty fifty, and you won’t kill me? Play bodyguard instead? I promise it’ll be good. So good, mate, the best.” 

This was not the first bad idea that Roadhog had went along with, and it was going to be far from the last. He sighed and instead spit in his hand as well and shook Junkrat’s. 

“Deal.”


	2. Chapter 2

The first heist. The first chance at glory and the start of having unimaginable wealth. 

“We got this,” Junkrat boasted, pulling out a set of floorplans and a red pencil. “Watch this, see? We’ll go this way,” he dragged the pencil along a path and marked certain spots, “put charges there, there, and there. That should blow the power out. Then we move along and get this security system off. All that’s left after that is really just to waltz right in and take what we please.” 

Roadhog stared and Junkrat looked worriedly up at him. He hadn’t ever really worked with someone before, and he wasn’t sure what it was going to be like. At least Roadhog was strong enough to handle himself.

“Mmn. Okay,” Roadhog grunted. 

“Really! Well then let’s do this mate!” Junkrat jumped up, excited. “We’ll make our way in the service entrance, and then yea! That’s where the magic is gonna happen.” 

Roadhog couldn’t help but laugh at that, a deep guttural laugh that made Junkrat flinch and look terrified, more so than usual. “Magic,” he snorted. 

“It’s gonna be beautiful you’ll see,” Junkrat sneered at him and crumpled up the plans, shoving it in his pants pocket. He grabbed his frag launcher and hoisted up while Roadhog tightened his grip on his shrapnel launcher. “You get the door big guy,” he said while grabbing a box of bombs with his free hand. 

His only answer was a nod and Roadhog pushing the door open. They quietly stepped in, avoiding the cameras that were near the door and went along a hallway.

“Wot’s that noise?” Junkrat whispered as he set the box down carefully and pulled out some of his lock picking tools. He looked up and over at Roadhog, who shrugged one shoulder and turned to keep an eye on the hallway. 

“Sounds like a whole mess o’ blokes shootin the shit,” Junkrat murmured, mostly to himself as he bit on the ends of some of the tools to hold them close while he fiddled with the lock. 

The back door wasn’t a fancy lock, so it was relatively easy to pick, especially for Junkrat who had years of experience in the art. A few more clicks and the door swung open. 

A huge group of security guards stared over at the door that wasn’t supposed to open. 

“Oh well, g’day,” Junkrat gave a cheeky smile and then turned to look at his partner. “Roadie.  _ Run _ .” 

Through sheer luck and surprise, the Junkers managed to run fast enough to get away to get minimal damage. Because of the close quarters, and the amount of guards trying to chase after the two in the small hallways, they were able to just barely squeak out. 

“Close the door close the door close it close it!!!” Junkrat screeched as Roadhog got through the emergency exit. Roadhog turned and wrenched the door handle so hard it collapsed in on itself with a crunch and broke, making it even better for them to escape.

“Don’t stop, keep goin’ aw CRIPES!” Junkrat continued babbling and ran ahead. 

Roadhog vaguely thought that for missing a leg, he moved pretty fast. His thoughts were almost blanked out because he instead started swearing loudly at Junkrat. “You goddamn moron what the HELL were you thinking did you even PLAN ahead or did you burn your goddamn brains out too?!” 

“Oh how was I supposed to know they were all gonna be there!? I planned ahead, I had the floor plans and everything!!” Junkrat yelled back. Gunfire sounded from behind of them and they ducked into a nearby building, ignoring that it was the hallway of an apartment building, and people screamed upon seeing them. 

“Damn imbecile,” Roadhog grunted and grabbed at Junkrat, yanking him off to the side and ducking down a smaller hallway to help lose the security guards. “Bicker at me when we’re not running.” 

“You started it you oaf!!” Junkrat beat angrily at Roadhog’s hand, but he couldn’t really free himself from the iron grip he had. Plus, Roadhog’s clenched together fist was easily as thick as his entire torso was. 

After a good amount of running, ducking through buildings, and finding their way to a very unsavory part of town, the two Junkers took refuge in a currently closed diner, sitting in the back kitchen.

Roadhog turned and stared at Junkrat, who was catching his breath and staring down at his hands. “Idiot.” 

“Fek off,” Junkrat hissed at him. “It’s the first goddamn time we’ve worked together, you expect it to go perfect?” 

“I expect it to go better than that,” Roadhog grumbled loudly and then stood up. “I want my share of the treasure  _ now _ .” 

“Well I don’t carry it with me,” Junkrat said, “I hid it.” 

“We’re going to get it,” Roadhog stood. 

“Wot! No,” Junkrat’s tone was dubious. “We just ran, I’m feckin tired, I want water and somethin’ ta eat.” 

Roadhog loomed over him and snorted. “Too bad.” 

\---

A very reluctant Junkrat guided Roadhog along the roads to where he had hid most of his stash. It was in a very out of the way, non-descript area which only had a single uninteresting rock as the landmark which Junkrat used to find his way. Junkrat clung to Roadhog’s back, squinting out towards the desert, as they trundled along on Roadhog’s motorcycle. 

“Ya gotta just… Right here! Right here,” Junkrat yanked at Roadhog’s arm and pointed towards the rock. “Ya can’t see it but there’s a little crevice and I can just barely make it in there and that’s where I keep my loot from wherever I stole things.” 

Roadhog glanced over at him, then steered his chopper over and parked it just nearby, wary. He shoved Junkrat off the back of the bike. 

“Go get it,” he ordered. 

“Pushy in more ways than one, ain’t ya?” Junkrat cackled and then hobbled off. He dropped some of his gear off and then shimmied down into a barely-visible hole. A few moments later, a relatively large stone tablet was shoved up through the concealed entrance,  Junkrat following as he held it up proudly. 

“That’s. It. That’s it?” Roadhog stared at him and then stood up off his bike. “You’ve strung me along for this garbage?!”

“It ain’t garbage mate, this is some ancient magic, I bet! You see this?” he held up the tablet triumphantly and pointed to some of the pictographs on it, which seemed to show two figures which then became one. “That’s probably some ancient magic or something and this tells ya how to do it. Look it’s even GLOWING,” he shook the tablet a little, as if to indicate the very faint blue glow. “You wouldn’t believe how much people pay for this ancient crap. And if it’s glowing well damn that means it’s gotta be somethin’ important, eh?” 

Roadhog stomped over and grabbed the tablet out of Junkrat’s hands and stared at it. “You can’t understand any of this, how do YOU know it’s valuable. The glow is probably just radiation too you idiot.” 

“It ain’t that!! It can’t be that,” Junkrat tried to pry the tablet out of Roadhog’s hands, and then stared intently at it. “YOU FUCKIN BROKE IT?! It ain’t glowin’ anymore.” 

Roadhog just dropped the tablet on the ground and glared at Junkrat. He grabbed at the smaller man and then hurled him to the ground. “Nearly killed me for your stupid shit,” he growled. 

“Oh that’s how it’s gonna be?” Junkrat pushed himself up and then dove for his gear, but Roadhog was a step ahead of him. He moved fast, terrifyingly fast for his size, and grabbed at Junkrat’s leg, yanking him backwards. Junkrat turned and punched Roadhog in the face when he got pulled close, making sure to use his prosthetic so the metal would deliver a stronger blow. 

The two started fighting, fully intent on killing the other, and leaving the body in the desert. Roadhog was smart enough to keep Junkrat away from his weapons which he had rather stupidly taken off, and was now regretting that he did. Roadhog easily outclassed him in every other way and he was soon being held up in the air in front of Roadhog by one arm, dangling helplessly before him. 

“Nobody’ll miss you,” Roadhog said in a low voice, while reaching down for his hook with his free hand. 

Junkrat moaned weakly in pain and then tried once more to pull free but couldn’t. He was beaten to hell and back and wasn’t sure what else he could do. He stared at Roadhog and his stupid pig mask, then leaned back and headbutted him as a last resort. 

There was a bright flash that blinded both men and then a terrible sensation of being pulled together unwillingly. 

When the dust and light settled, a large being stood where the two men were. It was easily just as tall as Roadhog was, but slim and muscular. Two large arms hung limp at its sides while a third arm jutting out of its back was raised hesitantly. Its legs were bent like that of an animal, and one was a monstrously thick one made of steel, clicking and whirring as it moved. The other leg, while organic, was clad in what looked like a boot stylized to be a metal hoof. A large metal hook strung up with a chain rested at its side and clinked against its legs as it moved.

The creature’s clothing was an odd match of what looked like Junkrat’s ragged shorts and Roadhog’s overalls stitched together at the middle. It wore Junkrat’s vest while Roadhog’s armor covered one of its shoulders. It moved its arms now, one gigantic metallic fist clenching and unclenching. It reached up and patted a hand against its face. 

Its face was clad in a leather mask that was stretched into a maniacal grin, with four holes for eyes. One set was blackened with goggles, but the other set was covered with a mesh to help keep out sand. A wild mane of silvery blond hair was pushed up into a mohawk, while at the base of its neck, a long rattail was tied up tightly, bound in cloth and string with spikes jutting out from it. It ended in a flared tuft of hair that made it almost look like a tail. 

“Ahh…?!” 

It made a noise and pulled its mask off, staring down at it. Four sets of wild eyes glared down at the mask, and a mouth with sharp golden plated tusks was hanging open in confusion. Just under its mouth, there was a shaggy goatee, the same color as its hair, unkempt and bristly. 

It looked around and tried to make sense of its surroundings. It took a step, uneasy and fell, then snarled and spat angrily while it pushed itself up. It took another step, then one more, and made its way over to the bike that sat nearby. It touched it. 

“What happened,” it spoke now. It tilted its head to the side and leaned down, staring in awe at its reflection in the polished chrome of the gas tank. “Is that us?! That’s us.” 

_ ‘That’s us. What happened?’ _ Roadhog said, but his voice was only audible to Junkrat. 

_ ‘Oi, I don’t bloody well know what happened, you tell me.’ _ Junkrat returned. He focused on moving and as he did, the reflection tilted its head to the side and put a hand up against its head, just like Junkrat had wanted to do.  _ ‘This is us Roadhog. Somehow. This thing’s us. You an’ me both. Look at it.’ _

“We’re this? We’re this, we… fused?” it said and put its hand against the bike. “That’s damn bloody magical, isn’t it? I don’t know how it happened but it did.” 

Another shift of its body and it slumped down against the bike, legs feeling weak. “We’re talking to ourselves. Gone insane haven’t we?” It said. “Yes well, thinking at you is weird.” 

_ ‘It is not, it’s neat. Like, when ya think really loud and almost wonder if you said it out loud? It feels like that,’ _ Junkrat ‘said’ to Roadhog.

Roadhog just grunted at him.  _ ‘It’s messed up. Why are we this anyway.’ _

It held its hands up and looked at them, all three of them. One of its hands was amputated, being replaced with a mechanical limb just like Junkrat’s was. The fingers of that hand twitched. The smallest hand arched a bit awkwardly over its shoulder and then it wiggled its fingers of the third hand to make sure that yes, it was connected. 

“We fused together. That’s the only explanation for it. How it happened I don’t bloody well know. Quit talking over me! It did happen and now this is us. This badass thing is us,” it continued and dropped all of its arms down, sagging back. “Hungry. Well, get us on the bike. Think we can actually ride it?” 

_ ‘Won’t know until we try,’ _ Roadhog said. 

The fusion pushed itself up and then straddled over the bike. It felt natural and right, so it kicked the starter and revved the engine. It took a moment to put the mask back on its face. 

“Yea. We’ve got this,” it said, its deep voice confident and proud. The bike roared to life, the fusion driving back into the nearest traces of Junker civilization. 

The first person, a lookout, that saw them hollered and sounded the alarm. Whatever this mutant creature was had to be bad news. The outback was no strangers to mutated creatures by now, but this one was something new. 

“They don’t like us,” the fusion noted, a hint of amusement in its voice. As it got closer to what could have been a village, it saw a few guards standing at the ready. 

_ ‘Don’t want trouble. Just want food.’  _ Roadhog said.

_ ‘Well they’re really gonna give it to us. The trouble that is.’ _ Junkrat snickered. 

“We’re just here to get food,” the fusion said out loud and stopped the bike. Its voice was muffled by the mask. “Don’t wanna fight.” 

“It’s talking man, that’s creepy,” one of the Junkers grabbed one of his guns. 

“We just said we don’t want trouble,” it said and pushed itself up off the bike. 

“Isn’t that Roadhog’s bike? That thing just… probably offed one of the scariest things out here,” another Junker said, horror filling his voice. 

“That’s ours. Mine. Ours,” it bickered a moment with itself. 

_ ‘That isn’t your bike, Rat.’ _ Roadhog growled.

_ ‘Well when we’re stuck together like this IT KINDA IS alright?!’  _ Junkrat said.

While they were busy arguing over the bike, one of the guards lunged with a mace to start the attack. The fusion jolted back to awareness, having gone a bit out of focus while Roadhog told Junkrat off. Instead of the blow actually connecting however, the fusion grabbed it with its metallic hand and stopped it. With its other hands, it grabbed the man.

“Mate that was the worst idea you’ve had yet,” it sneered and then turned, hurling him. The man flew far and fast, almost out of sight before he collapsed into a broken heap in the distance. 

“Did we just...?” the fusion looked out towards the man, who had been flung far enough to be a small lump in the distance. It started laughing, a low laugh at first that grew into a crazed, beastly noise. Without any more warning, the fusion grabbed at another man, then in a swift motion, twisted his neck and tossed him aside like a rag doll. 

“We’re a bloody monster!!” the fusion bellowed, still laughing upon realizing its strength. “Try it. Try it little Junkers, try shooting us, see how well that goes over for you!!” 

The guards did shoot, but the bullets didn’t seem to have any effect on the fusion’s body. Some bullets hit dead on but only seemed to act like pellets rather than bullets. Shrapnel gave shallow cuts but nothing more. 

_ ‘YES YES RAMPAGE!!’  _ Junkrat hooted. 

_ ‘Never felt better. Ha… Haha!!’  _ Roadhog agreed.

The superhuman strength and endurance of the fusion was near unstoppable. It went through the Junker camp, tearing anything up that it felt like, killing indiscriminately, and becoming more like a force of nature than a simple being. When it was bored it fueled up its bike, stealing from wherever it wanted in the camp, stocked up on food, and left, leaving only ruins in its wake. 

It moved on to another camp. Then another. Three terror fueled days and nights it rampaged, making its way through the outback and going from camp to camp. 

Until midway through the fourth day, it was making its way to a new place, when it started to feel sick. It stopped the bike on the roadside, hesitant. 

“We’re sick? We haven’t felt sick like this,” it stated, then there was a very confusing popping noise and there was no longer the feeling of being one for the Junkers. Instead, they were pulled apart and then sat on each side of the bike, stunned and confused. 

“... Mako?” Junkrat asked, using the other man’s name out of his absolute confusion.

“Jamison,” Roadhog said back and looked over the bike at the smaller man. “The hell just happened.”

“I… really don’t know. But I liked it,” a grin split Junkrat’s face as he spoke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the wonderful therizino-san at Tumblr, who gave me permission to use the look of the fusion, [seen](http://therizino-san.tumblr.com/post/136253673708/fusion-junkers) [here](http://therizino-san.tumblr.com/post/145343874118/please-give-a-name)


	3. Chapter 3

It was a terribly long ride back to Junkrat’s loot hideout. The two Junkers had to avoid any settlements, unsure of what might have happened between them and the inhabitants. Again, Junkrat held himself to Roadhog’s back, giving directions. He wasn’t as chatty as before though. 

“That’s it. Right?” Roadhog looked off to the side of the road. “I think I see your vest.”

“Uh-huh,” Junkrat nodded. 

Roadhog guided the chopper off the road and found Junkrat’s abandoned vest, nearly covered with dust from the winds. He pointed to it and Junkrat made a noise of confirmation, hopping off and picking it up. He also grabbed the tablet, only barely visible under the sands that had swept over it. 

“So this thing caused all that?” Junkrat said, doubting it as if he didn’t just live through it. He held the tablet up and shook it a little. “It ain’t glowing at all anymore.” 

“Guess so,” Roadhog sat down on the ground next to him with a grunt. 

Junkrat looked at the pictographs on the tablet and scratched at some of them with his fingernail. “Think we can do it again? That was really bloody awesome,” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up while doing so, completely dropping the tablet. He cursed and picked it back up as if it was still valuable.

Roadhog shook his head. “Hey ‘Rat,” he spoke up after a few moments of silence. Junkrat looked up at him, curious. “If we’re gonna do it again… We gotta work together. Better.” 

“We worked together just fiiiine,” Junkrat waved his hand dismissively. 

“You were yelling at me half the time and we fell over our own feet more than once,” Roadhog growled and stood up. Junkrat flinched and shrunk back, clearly afraid of Roadhog. 

“Fine, fine,” Junkrat mumbled and stared down at the ground. He kicked a rock, distracting himself.  “What do we gotta do to work together better?” 

Roadhog leaned back. “Try not fighting me when we’re… merged?” He suggested. 

“Roight then, and… the memories. I could see some o’ yours yanno. Was really fuckin weird. Do you really have tusks mate?” Junkrat asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He flinched back again when Roadhog turned his head sharply to look at him. “Just askin’ mate.” 

“Yeah. Mutation from radiation,” Roadhog pulled his mask off and gestured to his face, with the set of tusks jutting from his lower jaw, before replacing the mask and safely securing it. “Got you too with your skin didn’t it? Saw that when we were stuck together.” 

“Bingo!” Junkrat flicked at his knee. “Really thick shit. Makes it nice workin’ with fire and explosives, can’t feel shit.” He smiled a little bit, as if realizing something, “Maybe gettin’ ta know one another better would help us? I mean… we KINDA got off on the wrong foot. Even if it wasn’t the one I lack.” He laughed at his own terrible joke, but continued, “Yea then mate, yea, let’s get to know each other better, and work together. I bet with that fusion thing we can be damn unstoppable if we work together.” 

Roadhog made a noise of agreement, but said nothing other than that. 

“Looks like you want me to start then, yea? Well then, I can handle that. So yeup, you know me as Junkrat, I was born Jamison Fawkes, I don’t really… remember anything other than this wasteland of a country. Kinda remember a few things. S’why I wanted to steal enough so I could get away from here even for a lil’ bit. O’ course the thrill of stealin’ things got to be too great,” Junkrat started talking rapidly, but as Roadhog glared at him, he slowed down. “Had a real knack for dealing with explosives when nobody else wanted to so I kept at it. Worked out nicely for me.”

“You talk a lot,” Roadhog said after a moment’s pause.

“Lots o’ time I haven’t had anyone else to talk to really. Kept talkin’ though. Nobody bein’ around to hear me isn’t gonna stop me!” Junkrat sniggered. He turned to Roadhog. “Now you. Say somethin buddy, gimmie somethin’ to work here.” 

“My name,” he said, almost hesitantly now, “Is Mako Rutledge. Used to farm. Land got taken over by Omnics. Joined the A.L.F. Helped destroy the land I loved.” 

“Ouch,” Junkrat winced, “that shit’s rough. But those scrap heaps deserve nothin’ less than destruction! Took me leg they did. See, back when I was a lil squirt, me friends and family had gathered up to try to escape the Omnics. Wasn’t good. Didn’t end well nope. Some sorta… wandering group of those battle-Omnics or whatever found us and offed about half of us, and the rest didn’t make it out too well either. Was terrible… Still have nightmares about it since I only really remember the vaguest stuff, like the part where one stepped on my leg and…” He gave a full body shudder and looked a bit sick. 

Roadhog straightened up a bit, as if he realized something, making Junkrat glance over at him. “Would bad thoughts have bad reactions if we did that fusing thing?” 

“I dunno, maybe?” Junkrat scratched at the side of his head in thought. “Should we share shit things that have happened to us so we’re ready? You’re a cautious sort ain’t ya.” 

“Have to be,” he replied, and though it wasn’t visible to Junkrat, the tone of his voice made it clear he was amused, possibly even smiling, “Especially since I’m gonna bodyguard a nutcase like you.”

Junkrat had a fit of laughter and shoved at him. “Knew you didn’t completely hate me! Roight on!” he said. Roadhog didn’t really react well to being shoved and smacked Junkrat upside the head, but that didn’t deter him one bit, and he kept laughing. “Ahhh mate this is gonna be the start of a B-E-A-U-teeful partnership. So since you’re Mr. Man-of-a-Thousand-Words, I guess I’ll keep sharing.” 

“Oh goody,” Roadhog lounged back once more in an attempt to relax as he listened.

“Well… it ain’t pretty that’s for sure. Those war-bots or whatever they call ‘em, they had managed to split our group up while we was escapin’. They were a lot bigger an’ stronger than us so it was easy. I was… six? Maybe seven. Just barely remember it. One of the big bots had grabbed me and threw me to the ground,” Junkrat’s voice hitched and he wrung his hands together. “I couldn’t really move because I guess I was stunned and disoriented and all that. The thing stepped on my leg. Hard.” 

Junkrat hunkered in on himself, clearly upset but something possessed him to keep going. “It was hard enough that it just… shattered everything. Didn’t even think it was possible but it stepped so hard and… That’s about all I remember. Think I passed out. When I woke up I was with some other people that had escaped. Leg had to be amputated so I’d survive but.. Ta-da!” he wiggled his peg leg about. “Got this and a big ol’ reason to hate Omnics.” 

“What about your arm?” Roadhog asked.

“Ehh,” Junkrat looked at his prosthetic arm, clenching and unclenching his hand. “Junkers are assholes. Don’t steal from ‘em,” he gave a toothy grin. “This one’s much better though, keeps steady when I’m working on somethin’. Well c’mon Hog. You gotta have a story, you aren’t just this badass I heard about like you’re some living legend!” 

Junkrat dropped his hand down. “Life ain’t easy out here,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. 

“Yeah. I know,” Roadhog said. He cleared his throat. “I… I used to be a farmer. A solar farmer. Had a nice family. Two little boys and a wife. Then when we were displaced, when the Omnic forces came… I lost them. I couldn’t save them. Thought I could help save Australia, but I couldn’t do that either.” 

“Well you better do a good job savin’ me, eh?” Junkrat piped up. Roadhog stared at him, the mask making it look even more blank than any other stare. “I dunno, I trust ya a lil bit already. Didn’t try to absolutely murder me until after I messed up the first time there, so that’s a plus. Usually, everyone tries to kill me on sight! You’re already better than the lot of ‘em.” 

“Heh,” Roadhog couldn’t help but laugh just once, “that’s about my story though. Just an old man trying to survive in this wasteland.” 

“And now you’re stuck with me! In uh, one recent case, very literally too,” Junkrat managed to say before almost falling over in a fit of laughter. Once he recovered he pushed himself up. “How DO we get stuck together again? That was wonderful. So much chaos!” 

“You headbutted me,” Roadhog offered. 

Junkrat looked thoughtful, then got up to do it again, but Roadhog shoved him right back down. “Aw c’mon Roadie, I was just kiddin’. I’m sure there’s a better way to do it!” 

Junkrat pushed his hands against his head to think, but was a bit more distracted. He stared off into the distance, mind elsewhere until he noticed the shadow of Roadhog over him. He flinched again and reached for his frag launcher.

“No,” Roadhog sat down next to him. “I… have an idea.” 

“Oi! Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that!!” Junkrat scolded him. 

Roadhog couldn’t help but shake his head. “Sorry boss,” he said. 

Junkrat held his hand up, mouth open, before he dropped it and looked a lot more flustered than he expected. He scowled instead to hide his reaction. 

Roadhog put his hand on Junkrat’s shoulder. “This is something I know from… before,” he spoke with a note of sorrow in his voice, making Junkrat look worried at his tone. He expected the worst, but got something completely different as Roadhog pulled his mask off, then leaned in and pressed his forehead to Junkrat’s in a way so their noses touched.

There was the strangest feeling of being pulled in and then a flash. 

“Oh we did it!” The fusion stood tall and proud, putting its hands on its hips. “Do you think there’s any negative side effects of this? No? Good. Neither do I.” 

The fusion shuffled a bit around and stretched. “Hey, do we have a name? You know for this guy. This is a guy right? Sounds like us, and we’re guys. Should we check? Wait--” the fusion didn’t hesitate to pull at its pants and stare down into it. There was an impressed whistle. “So yeah, let’s go with a guy. We should COMBINE OUR NAMES!!” The fusion yelled. “Why are you so loud?” Followed soon after.

_ ‘It’s fun Roadie. Besides. It’s for emphasis.’ _ Junkrat explained to him in their merged state, as if he was thinking very loud and Roadhog could hear. 

_ ‘Ugh.’ _ Roadhog gave the best equivalent of a sigh and groan. 

“So. Roadrat? Junkhog? Which one do you like better,” the fusion asked, then put a hand thoughtfully against his chin, stroking his goatee. “I like Roadrat better. Yea? That sounds good. We’re a pretty badass Roadrat.” 

There was a bit of an awkward pause, and Roadrat dropped his arms, then looked over to the bike. “Do we wanna go rampage again?” he asked. 

_ ‘No… we should go far and find someplace to eat. I want to see what it’s like to eat in this.’ _ Junkrat had a relatively innocent request.  _ ‘That okay there ‘Hog?’ _

_ ‘Mm. Sure.’ _ Roadhog agreed.  _ ‘...I can’t tell if that’s my own sentiments or your crazy little mind is whittling away at mine.’  _ His only answer was an tittering giggle from Junkrat.

And so Roadrat straddled himself up onto the bike, kicking it to life and blasting along. 

_ ‘Wonder how long this lasts.’ _ Roadhog pondered.  _ ‘Do you think we can force it apart?’  _

_ ‘Why would you wanna do that?! It’s GREAT!!’ _ Junkrat was shocked. 

_ ‘What if we can’t get apart normally? Would you want to be stuck like this forever?’  _ Roadhog pointed out.

There was something that was like a feeling of agreement from Junkrat, though he said nothing in response. 

Roadrat laughed. “Fine, after we eat, we’ll figure that out!” 

\---

Roadrat found a small town that had managed to survive the apocalypse well enough. It was very small, so it was probably largely unnoticed, consisting of a gas station, a diner that had a library as an addition, a post office, and a town hall as its main part of the town. He didn’t go in on a rampage, and he knew that word traveled slowly in the wasteland, so he wasn’t terribly afraid of being recognized. 

He pulled the bike up to the diner and stared at it. 

“Ain’t you a funny lookin’ one,” an old man up on the porch of the diner pointedly stated. 

“Yes we are. Do you wanna start something? We can start something,” Roadrat snarled out. The old man just laughed, which made Roadrat cock his head to the side.

“No siree. Too old to care about anything but smokin’ and sleepin’ that’s for sure,” the old man said. He took a long drag on a homemade cigar that probably would have killed anyone else but he seemed fine with it. “Yup. Smoke and sleep. Should be sex in there too but the old lady won’t give any.” 

Roadrat stared. 

“Don’t mind him darlin’. He’s just senile,” an old woman came out. “We’re always tryin’ to serve anyone that comes through this little settlement. Did ya need any food?” 

“Yes. Yes we want food,” Roadrat said, then moved to stand in front of the old lady, “You are amusing. We think it’s pretty funny, your relationship. I’d like somethin’ like that in my life. Would you? Maybe.” 

“Huh,” the old man squinted at them. “Quit talkin to yourself. You make me look sane.”

“We are not, we are talking to each other!” Roadrat insisted. 

_ ‘They’ve seen even more than I have. Don’t even try arguing with ‘em, they’re old. They’re  _ **_innocent_ ** _. Leave them be.’  _ Roadhog cautioned Junkrat.

_ ‘What do you mean innocent?’  _ Junkrat asked.

_ ‘They’re like us… except they never struck back against the Omnics. They never wanted this life and they are doing the best they can with it. I will… I will always stop you from trying to hurt someone innocent like that. Could have been us you know.’ _ Roadhog explained, his inner voice heavy with emotion. So much so that Junkrat almost felt like he just wanted to pat the big guy on the head and comfort him somehow. 

_ ‘Got it… Really made your point there. I can feel what you’re feeling. And… that made the point there it did. Wouldn’t have gone with it if I heard ya talkin. Roight then, no hurtin’ innocent people!’ _ Junkrat agreed.

Outwardly, Roadrat stared down at the elderly woman as she ushered him into the diner and sat him down at one of the tables. She acted more like a mother than a stranger. 

“Your shorts are filthy dear. Do you need them washed or at least the dust beaten out of them? Perhaps a bit of oil for your leg?” she fussed over him. “You need vegetables. We have a few growin’ out here, hearty things they are, been tending to them and givin’ em to strangers to help their journeys.” 

“You are strange. Why do you trust me? I wouldn’t trust me,” Roadrat questioned. 

“You’re putting up a big front but I can tell when someone doesn’t really mean harm,” she said and set down a cup of water for him. He grabbed it and chugged it down eagerly. 

_ ‘See? Innocent.’ _ Roadhog pointed out. 

“I’ll be back in a bit dear. Have as much of that water from the jug as you need,” the old woman shuffled off to the kitchen and there was the sounds of a meal being prepared. 

Roadrat was lulled into a relaxed state by the soft clinking of kitchenware and peace. His third arm idly rubbed at his side while all but one of his eyes shut. 

_ ‘You can feel what I’m feeling?’ _ Roadhog asked.

There was the feeling of agreement from Junkrat. _‘Yeah. Feels almost like I’m feelin’ it myself. Makes me even MORE sure of trustin’ you now too!’_ He was excited to share that. There was a small pause. _‘Haven’t been able to trust someone in forever. Feels nice.’_

There was something akin to a pulse of emotion from Junkrat. He sent gratefulness and a warmth that stunned Roadhog into silence. 

Roadrat blinked himself into awareness and found a plate of food, nothing terribly large but a seared piece of meat and some various leafy greens in front of him. 

“Enjoy yourself dear, eat at your own pace,” the voice of the old woman was behind him, but he didn’t really stop to look as he ate. 

With the realization that feelings were shared between the two while they were fused, it was one of the best meals they had ever had.

\---

It was strangely difficult for Roadrat to leave the little town. He stared at the old man who was still on the porch, but sleeping. He reached into one of the pack bags on the chopper and pulled out a wad of credits, valid for almost all the Junkers, and then dropped them in the old man’s lap. 

“Never good at goodbyes, sorry old lady,” he said and waved to the building.

Once more, Roadrat hit the deserted roads. 

He made his way through places neither Junkrat or Roadhog had any knowledge of, each one mildly interesting, but forgettable overall. Eventually, he was tired. 

“Should we sleep? Yea, it’s not safe to drive a cycle. Let’s pull over then. We already sleep outside anyway, find a safe place to hole up and sleep,” Roadhog said, slowly guiding the chopper over to the side of the road and finding a rocky outcropping to park the chopper underneath it. He slid down to the ground and basically collapsed to rest. 

_ ‘Hey ‘Hog,’ _ Junkrat asked, a bit sleepy in his mental voice.  _ ‘Think we can split. Like, willingly?’ _

There was a thoughtful feeling.  _ ‘Hm. Hope so.’  _ Roadhog said. 

There was an odd fuzzy feeling and the pulling apart sensation overcame Roadrat once more. Both men stared at each other, but were far too tired to actually react. 

“Welp,” Junkrat yawned, and flopped his head against Roadhog’s arm. “We’ll figure that out… later.” He was surprised when Roadhog didn’t pull his arm away, and even more surprised with how comfortable the larger man’s arm was as a pillow. 

Roadhog grunted in agreement. He was silent for a long while, Junkrat almost asleep when he spoke up in his deep rumbling voice. “Do you really trust me?” 

“Yea mate, I do. But shh. M’tired,” Junkrat put his hand up against Roadhog’s mask as if to silence him. He was confused when Roadhog just chuckled, a fondness to it. It was enough of a laugh to make his belly jiggle, and Junkrat watched as it happened. His eyes widened for a moment as he realized it was adorable, then had to ponder if that was something he actually did think, or like earlier, was it something of Roadhog’s mind that snuck into his own? 

“Sounds good. G’night boss,” Roadhog mumbled sleepily. 

Junkrat made a keening noise of delight, but found himself too tired to do anything other than that. He flopped down and fell asleep. 


End file.
